


Persuaded by Frustration

by tinyflowers



Category: Red Dead Redemption, Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Light BDSM, Light Masochism, Molly O’Shea deserves better, Pegging, Period Typical Attitudes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, on dutch’s Part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-09-23 11:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17079857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyflowers/pseuds/tinyflowers
Summary: Before everything went to hell, Tilly and Dutch had a little agreement, an arrangement of sorts. These are some of those clandestine meetings.( set before and after the epilogue. loosely structured )





	1. Saint Dennis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not the beginning of their trysts but the renewal of the arrangement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta’d , Written at 5 am, and Absolutely explicit. All mistakes are of course mine, I’ll edit it as mistakes come up.

Saint Denis was a drain on his energy; As Dutch figured most big cities were on ordinary outdoorsy types like him. Though strangers often looked at him and saw someone suited for city life. With his well crafted looks and his eloquent way of speaking. But he was much more of a ranch boy than many assumed. His mother had taught him the manners of higher living before he ran from her and her untimely demise ; And he had put them to use for crime, seduction, and everything else against her god fearing ways. 

 

He supposed that’s why Molly O’Shea was drawn to him like a fly to honey. She hung around him and for a time she had been interesting. A distraction to keep him from thinking of his late Annabelle or hell even the occasional nightmare of his mother. But she had gotten tiresome quick, fancying herself queen of the castle and Dutch, her king. But he was a simple man, he lead his people and he tried to do what he thought was best against an rapidly industrialized world. So he had slowly drifted from her, and she had turned bitter for that fact. 

 

Nursing a half empty glass of strong southern whiskey in some fancy art nouveau stained bar , Dutch figures that was where all of his most recent problems began. In combination with the being so close to Saint Denis, The Pinkertons closing in from all angles, and damn Colm O’driscoll, his sudden stubborn celibacy left him more than wanting. Frustration colored all his actions, made him liable to snap at little things. Even Hosea stayed away, calling him irritable these days. 

 

This little family outing was supposed to lighten the mood. The girls in their finest, and the boys decked out just the same. He had hoped that it would rekindle some flame between him and his Irish lover but there was no such luck. Earlier into the night she had dug into him about wandering eyes and affections. And while she was half right, he had tried to be faithful with her and told her as much ( Albeit harshly ) before she stormed off to drink and pout. 

 

Alone, he’s free to admire the beautiful women about. Though all just blur into one until he feels the slightest bump at his shoulder. Yellow fabric against dark skin, but more importantly that gentle but strong voice that captures his attention without effort. “You seem a thousand years away , Dutch.”

 

He had always liked Tilly Jackson. Like his Arthur, she had made her own path before he found her. She was savvy, always non-grating but always honest and outspoken. “Well I don’t have anyone to rob and the company here is decidedly French, so I’m enjoying my current isolation with a drink .” Plainly put, he could hardly understand them. 

 

The answering laugh brightens his heart and night by a few decimals. Her smile gentle , her gloved hand coming to rest just above his elbow. In that dress, hat, and her pretty face and figure; she could have been anyone of those rich elites or French Carpetbaggers the South sneered at. It stirs something deep, a warmth pooling in his gut. He shifts, mortified that his cock is hardening in his dress pants. 

 

“Well unlike you, I’m always up for a little pickpocketing. These French fools keep so much on hand.” She whispers to him conspirataly, leaning in close enough he can smell her perfume

 

She doesn’t haunt his shadow for very long, but he can’t help but follow her with his eyes, watching as she flutters about. Taking offered drinks and making casual conversation. And ever the thief, pickpocketing the ones that were too close or friendly to notice her delicate little hands relieving them of their valuables. 

 

He doesn’t know what makes him approach her, but these days Dutch feels like he’s just letting old ghosts take the reins. But she looks at him so sweetly, like she didn’t mind him obviously stalking her with his eyes a moment ago. “Forgive me, Miss Jackson, I hope you don’t mind me stealing you away somewhere bit more quiet.”

 

His cock is heavy in his pants, and his gaze is heavy with a lust that he feels like a pot fixing to boil over. He’s sure she sees it in his face, with the way she studied him before nodding. 

 

“Well sure, Mr. Van der Linde. why don’t you meet me in room 6 after paying for it and some fine brandy.”

 

He nods maybe too eagerly. He takes her hand in his, leaning down to kiss her knuckles before parting. He’s surprised he didn’t break something or kill someone with the way he heads toward the bar as Tilly disappears up the stairs. He pays extra for the room and brandy, then some for a scheduled bath and stabling for his horse.

 

He takes the stairs two at a time on his way up, shaking his head as he passes Javier, a working girl in one arm and playing that expensive piano with the other. He’s sure that Arthur or Susan will get them home fine enough, though Arthur’s habits were probably just as bad. Instead of dwelling he focuses his attention on his night with his lady, and hoped it would better than the rest of his week. 

 

He knocks twice on the door embellished with a gold 6, and was answered from within. “Come in.”

 

He opens the door without hesitation, briefly stunned by the richness of the room alone. That is before his eyes settle on the woman lounging against the headboard. “ Well?”

 

Hat and dress done away with, but stolen jewels still dripping from her ears and neck. Stripped down to her bare skin, gems accenting her collarbone and the modest perk of her small breasts. That intricate updo, studded with pins remains intact. She looks every inch of the proper lady she should be, even naked as the day she was born. “Like what you see?”

 

“Of course I do —” And he means that. Tracing down her body and coming to a stuttering breathless pause when he sees the tell tale harness strapped against her flesh. “Is—Is that…?”

 

“I borrowed it from one of the girls. I figured you wanted this.” And she guessed correctly, the older man practically salivating at the mouth as he watches a brown leg bend, revealing the thick curve of the fake phallus. “Get undressed then.  you’re so slow.”

 

The impatient tone sends him scrambling. Making him feel like a young man again, so eager to please the lady he’d do anything for her no short of groveling. Eager hands pulling open  layer by layer, careful not to touch himself too much lest he spend his load too early. Releasing a great groan of relief when he can pull his drawers and pants off in one fell swoop, freeing his straining cock. 

 

“Look at you, half hard and I haven’t even touched you; come here.” She beckons him with a finger and he moves as told. Rings glinting against fire light as he climbs into bed and straddles her after she pats her knees. “I knew you were frustrated, but not this much. You know you could have asked before.”

 

“Maybe I figured we couldn’t make the time.” He answers, knowing they probably could have. “ You got something or are you going to try and fuck me dry?”

 

Dutch has been in this position before to know when to sass and when not to sass. Her laugh leaves him warm as she reaches under one of the fine silk pillows, and pulling out a little vial. “I’m always prepared, boy.”

 

He groans, propping himself up on his knees as Tilly tears cork with her teeth. The slick is lukewarm as she tilts a generous amount down the curve of his ass. She slides her fingers through it, until they catch along his hole. Her fingers are so slim, he barely feels the first. The second is a bit more of a burn, sliding knuckle deep and scissoring him open. He grips the headboard between his hands, his thickening cock weeping pre down onto the woman’s stomach. 

 

“You’re doing real well, Dutch. Even though I figure it has been a while, you’re taking my fingers real well…” Tilly whispers so gently, her fingers slides out of him and coming to rest on his hips. He moves with her as she guides him down. Tilly lines up, pressing in with a teasing push before she pushes just so. Dutch slides down, splitting himself open until Tilly is fully seated within him. She sighs out praise that sends him tingling down his spine “Good boy.”

 

“Dammit — don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep all of this up… ” Dutch  _ knows _ he’s not going to last with her talking like that. His length thick and pulsing, hung so heavy it settles between them along her stomach. He goes to grasp himself, to relieve some of the pressure. But a small brown hand bats his away, eyeing him from her mountain of pillows. “Not yet you’re going to ruin all your fun if you get off too quick.”

 

She helps him move once he starts squirming enough, trying to find his footing. Her small hands guiding him up, sliding out inch after inch of thick rubber before she lets him slide back down to settle. He finds the rhythm without even noticing she’s stopped guiding him. His body knows the motions, and he’s keen to follow them. 

 

His cock bounces heavy with the force of his movement. It drips at the tip, a copious amount of clear thick pre sticking and connecting to her stomach in thin stands. She seems to like watching them stretch and break as much as she likes watching him lose himself. He groans out, mumbling how good she feels through light growls. “ Thank you so– so much, Miss. this is what I needed , what I w..wanted!”

 

He whines when she laughs at him, her silky hands trailing up his torso, through the thick hair that covers his rough skin. Their size difference is almost comical. He’s all carefully packed girth, pudge hiding muscle, and thick wiry hair. She is smaller, inches shorter and beautifully sculpted. Her hairless body, only the odd mole or scar about. Nothing about her rough or too angular. She’s just so soft and beautiful, and his hips stutter when he realizes how smitten he is with her. 

 

“That’s it, boy, bounce. You work for it.” Probably twice her senior and then some, her delicate commands leave him wanting and debased. His balls drawn tight as he throws himself into his bucking. The slapping of his flesh against the harness, the bounce of his dick against her tummy. She rolls one of his thick nipples under her thumb, and he’s so close to the edge it burns. “ You close, darling ? ”

 

“Yes, Ma’am!” His groans and moans grow in pitch, and he knows that even with the party and the music, anyone in that hall will hear him. Anyone could hear him getting fucked like a good boy, and enjoying every second of it. And Tilly didn’t even have to touch him, her look and her words were enough. In this throws he barely figured himself worthy of her cock or her praise. But she was generously letting him bounce on her cock, and he was grateful. “I’m so close, I’m so fucking close ! I need to….Please let me come. ”

 

He chases and begs for his release, tears burning his dark eyes. She hadn’t even forbid him of it, edging him alone with her innocent little touches. A hand cupping the weight of his ass or sliding down the crack to brush against a hole stretched to its current limit. “Go on then, boy , let it all out.”

 

He sobs, fucking himself down onto that cock once then twice before the coil in his belly snaps. Head thrown back, tears almost falling with the way his balls draw almost painfully tight against his body. He shoots of rope after rope of pent up spurt, making a mess below him. His hole flutters around that fake cock, clenching and unclenching; trying to milk seed that would never come. His load sputtering out in a few lazy drips; He’s coated her from her navel, to her breasts, and under her chin. His thick virile jizz a glistening contrast against her dark skin. 

 

“Poor baby, holding all that in for so long” a soft brown hand moves to stroke his sensitive cock, still hard and only slightly flagging. He’s so lost in his indignity that an honest to god whimper escapes him. He loves the degradation, the feel of being out of control for once in his life. She even manages to squeeze a few more droplets of cum onto her taut tummy. “You made such a mess of me, I hope you got everything you need”

 

She cups a hand under his ass, helping him as he slides off the cock. He stays propped up on his knees as she works the straps loose. She deposits the strap on to the side, glistening with the slick. He collapses onto her bodily afterward. His legs like jelly as he scoots till he’s laying between her legs. 

 

“Thank you “ Dutch is a giver as much as he’s a receiver. And he knows his Madam deserves everything after this. He whispers his thanks between kisses to her thighs as he slides further down , brushing his stubbled drool stained mouth over their thickness. “Thank you, Miss”

 

She props her legs just so, giving him an unobstructed view of her. He doesn’t touch yet but he’s practically salivating at sight alone. When did he become so pussy hungry? But he can’t truly fault himself. If she thought he deserved it in some fashion, then he must have been worthy. 

 

“Thank you for what.” An unspoken air and rule was all that was keeping his mouth off her pussy. 

 

“Thank you…” He looks up at her, briefly tilting his cheek against her thigh. “For fucking this lecherous old man silly.”

 

“  Count it as a favor owed even though I enjoyed doing it.” She giggles and turns her head away from him, a hand over her smile. He leans forward then, to swipe the base of his tongue over her outer lips before diving further. He licks and sucks at her labia, using his fingers to push back her folds till he reveals her clit. His lips close around it without second thought, sucking and lavishing the bud in attention. She whines above him, slightly sticky fingers in his hair and a finger between her teeth.

 

Dutch can feel her essence drip down his chin, and he’s pleased. He always did liken the task to eating the ripest of fruits. She was sweet and husky like a peach, and he works one of his ring fingers into that tiny hole a moment later. He fucks her with his tongue and fingers, hoping he can taste her for days after this moment. She cums pulling his hair but bucking against him all the same. 

 

He laps up everything she gives him, even though the scratch of his stubble and wet warmth of his tongue have her pushing him away, breath heavy. He wants to continue but he settles for sucking his fingers and palm clean, licking over his skin and rings before crawling up to settle along her form. She lets Dutch place his head just over her heart, cushioned by the modest fat of her breasts.

 

His mind is clear for the first time in weeks, plans forming with relative ease even as he drifts off to sleep. He’s settled knowing he could probably talk her into bathing with him in the morning, and those delicate fingers in his hair lull him to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again unbeta’d and written at 4 am. I’m the worst but I discovered my absolute joy for this ship.


	2. Saint Denis II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after

Morning dawns after what feels like an eternity of sleep. The light peeking through thin curtains and washing over Dutch’s slack face. He stirs, ever so slightly, his face pressed against something soft and warm. 

 

Tilly breathes gently, laid out on her back and naked as the day she was born. Dutch can’t help but stare at all of that brown skin. His eyes tracing from her youthful face all the way down to the curve of her wide hips. His cock stirs a the sight of his cum dried across her skin like a brand. 

 

He turns his head, watching her intently as his day old stubble rasps against the sensitive skin of her chest. She stirs, squirming, face furrowing in discomfort. He can’t help but laugh when her delicate little fingers come to bat his face away. 

 

He’s delighted though, his mark left so physically on her irritated skin. Just like his slight limp, or the way his skin smarted. He chuckles, watching as those light eyes appear from being thick lashes; drowsy but not unkind. 

 

“I scheduled a bath for this mornin’ , should be ready” He whispers down to her, briefly pressing an open mouth kisses to her chest. With his balls lighter, and thusly not so hyper focused on sex, he can pamper her somewhat. “We could take it together like old times.”

 

He fondly remembers her skin wet and sparkling with water, her fingers wrapped around a bottle and the others around himself. It chewed him up that they didn’t explore that course more often back then. 

 

She’s still drowsy as she pulls herself up. She stretches languidly, fully exposing her body from under the little cover that the duvet had offered. He can’t complain, drinking her in once more with a smile. “Sure. It sounds empty enough and we probably should be getting back sooner or later.”

 

The way she sighs clues him into her thoughts. No doubt Susan Grimshaw would set her to rights and work those fingers to the bone. That woman ran a tight ship and things were never quite up to snuff for her. He sits up fully after lazing about, feeling all of his years as his back pops and his hips are so thoroughly sore. He helps her up not a moment later, watching as she wraps one of the smaller quilts around herself. Dutch is comfortable with his nudity and the bath is across the hall, but pulls on his drawers nonetheless. He opens the door in nothing but his drawers and heads right for his promised bath; his Miss Tilly trailing right behind. 

 

The room is warm and steamy, making it almost dreamy. Tilly sighs aloud, dropping the quilt and sliding right into the tub. Her curls falling wet down her back after she slips under the water. He watches a moment more before she calls to him. “You getting in?”

 

It spurs him beyond idle movement, finally shucking off his underwear and going to slip into the tub opposite of her. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but they find a comfortable arrangement. Her pressed against his chest, between his knees. 

 

“Here.” Dutch doesn’t expect her to wash him, she’s no working girl to get her hands dirty like that. No, he takes his big hands and begins to work the bath oils and soaps into her dark skin. Scrubbing away sweat and a little dirt from them roughing it out at shady bell. Being of use to her, in one way or another, pleases him. And it obviously pleases her, with the way she sighs and melts into his arms. “Feel better?”

 

“Much better, it’s a lot better than bathing in a river” she laughs, head tilted forward and the curls at the nape of her neck wet and clinging to her skin. He can’t resist leaning forward and leaving a kiss there, his hands still sliding over her body. He was hard, pressed along her back and ass. He can’t help himself. “Here I can do my hair before we leave. Let me do you.”

 

She manages a tight turn in that tub, and repeats the same process he had done to her. She seems slower, gently working soap and oil into every limb while massaging the worn muscles. His head falls back, and he’s almost as relaxed as he was yesterday. His cock twitches in the water when she brushes his chest, her lithe fingers running through his chest hair and slightly tugging. She runs a thumb over his nipples, thoroughly rolling them beneath it and making Dutch  _ whine _ . 

 

“Let’s do that hair real quick.” And he complies without second thought. His body bending to her will like she was god herself. Her fingers in his hair send him moaning. The gentle brush of pads against his scalp as she works lather and cleans away dirt and pomades. She laughs when he dunks himself quickly. Sliding so only the tops of his knees are exposed before resurfacing. “Now let’s take care of this little problem.”

 

His cock pulses in her palm when she finds it under the bathwater. She can barely meet her fingers around the base and that  _ excites  _ her. She always liked thick cocks, loved the way they looked and loved the way they fucked. Her and Mary-Beth had agreed, bigger was better and Karen’s preference for average had seemed silly. 

 

And it’s easy to refamiliarize herself with his cock. She toys with his foreskin with her other hand, finding the peaking head underneath. She slides her hand up from the base and then down until she can feel the skin gather and draw back. And she jerks him with that same twisting motion. She rubs at his slit too, her thumb working along the glans. Dutch groans, his balls tightening and he knows he’s not going to last. 

 

His arms clench at the sides of the tub, sweat and water running down the back of his neck. He moans and whines, unashamed to be at her mercy and to let himself be known. Given the chance he would fuck her fist like Molly’s cunt. But he lets her take him where he needs, he trusts her. “I’m so close— you’re so good. ”

 

She laughs, speeding up her fist. She jerks him with a fast corkscrewing motion, her other hand going down to cup his balls. Dutch practically howls over her cooing, head thrown back. He blows his load with a stuttered thrust of his hips. Tilly can no doubt feel his balls drawing forth as he emptied what spurt he had left into the lukewarm water. 

 

It takes him a moment to catch his breath, his dick twitching against his treasure trail. Tilly exits the bath easily, no wasted energy and water sliding off her dark brown skin in sheets. She looks like a goddess, as she wipes her skin down with the towels they had been provided. He reaches out for her hand, when she moves to exit the bath. Her skin oiled and glistening now hidden behind a robe. He knows she’ll leave first, and he’ll return to a cold room and barely warm bed. “Leavin’ already?”

 

He hopes his tone gets across they can spend more time here, if they wanted. But her words are like a gunshot. Slicing through his hope like a split point. “Mmhmm, probably best if we show up at camp separately. Don’t need anyone asking questions we can’t answer.”

 

“Alright…” he sighs, his hand sliding down her wrist or her hand. He presses a kiss to each of her knuckles. “Take some of the bills out of my wallet and get yourself a coach or dress”

 

She nods, and her smile is sweet and blinding. He returns it in kind, dirty teeth appearing for once. He’s a fool around her and he can’t help but think so long after she slips away from him. He exits the now cold soiled water a moment later, drying and dressing in that order. 

 

He is buckling his belts back on place when he sees the string of jewels lying on the vanity. It was the same one that had been cradled so delicately in her cleavage the night before. He reaches for it, holding it in a careful hands. He smiles, the jewels seeming slightly without luster without a neck to rest again. But he supposed he’ll just have to return it to Miss Tilly when he gets the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worked out some of the issues in the second chapter and finally got around to this ^_^ thanks for the patience


End file.
